


Carriage

by Severina



Series: Alphabet Soup [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Community: 1_million_words, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 10:56:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4219122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumplestiltskin and Belle return from the hunt for Robin Hood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carriage

**Author's Note:**

> Dark Castle; gapfiller for Episode 219, "Lacey". Written for the "C" prompt at LJ's 1_million_words A to Z Challenge.
> 
> * * *

Rumplestiltskin can still feel the warmth of her arms around his neck. He huddles further into the leather seat of the carriage, frowns as he examines the sensation. 

The possibility of it is, of course, patently absurd. Not only would he be unable to feel his little maid's body heat through the thickness of his cloak, but they also had a long walk back through the woods after he inadvertently missed the thief with his supposedly magic bow, and the crisp winter air had most definitely made itself known on their trek. He had followed slowly behind the lady Belle, letting her lead the way to the carriage, watching her step carefully in shoes that were made for dancing in a ballroom and not for wandering about in the forest. He had listened to the dry leaves crunch under his boots and watched her fuss as she smoothed at a fold in her cape, eying the way her delicate fingers caressed the fabric. And he had absolutely not been thinking about how soft and gentle those fingers had felt on the coarse skin of his cheek when they brushed against him as they parted. 

It had taken them fifteen minutes to make their way back to his conveyance, and with each step he had considered simply waving a hand and whisking them back to the castle. Away from the woods where annoying guttersnipes like the thief ran amok, and back to thick walls and shadowy corners. Where the light never shone. Where he would never see the sunlight glint on Belle's hair or look upon the glow in her cheeks from the wind when she glanced over her shoulder to smile at him. 

In the end, he had kept his hand at his side.

And now they are on their way back to his estate, the curtains drawn around the body of the vehicle to block the evening chill, and there is no way that he could possibly still feel the press of her arms around him; no way that he could still feel the softness of her hair or smell the sweet scent of her skin. And yet… and yet the sensation persists, no matter how much he tries to deny it. 

Rumplestiltskin idly flicks his fingers, increases the speed of the carriage with an errant push of his magic. Bringing Belle with him was a mistake, as was letting her have any contact with or knowledge of the thief. Letting her leave the grounds at all was simply foolish. He will return her to the castle posthaste and never speak of this incident again. 

Plan in place, Rumplestiltskin nods quietly to himself. 

"It was a nice day," Belle says suddenly into the silence. "Thank you for taking me with you."

Rumplestiltskin looks up sharply. "Nice?" he snaps.

"Well, considering we came out to kill a man," she clarifies. "And instead, we had a lovely walk in the woods."

Rumplestiltskin cocks his head, eyes her across the dim lighting of the carriage. The girl is… the girl is smirking at him! Impertinent little—

And then she leans forward to bridge the gap between their seats, her palm warm on his knee – yes, warm, even through his leathers, even with the brisk air that seeps between the gaps in the window curtains. He darts a quick look to where her hand rests against the curve of his kneecap, every nerve ending, every molecule, every fibre fixated on the place where she touches him, where the flesh of her palm meets the thick material of his trousers. Swallows around a dry throat, for she doesn't move her hand except to squeeze his knee lightly, and the pressure of it sends a shock through him that stills any movement he could make. His craven heart stutters and takes up an irregular rhthym, and it is a long moment before he is able to lift his eyes to meet her gaze. 

"Don't you agree, Rumplestiltskin?" she asks.

His voice is rough and raspy when he is finally able to rouse himself enough to reply. "Indeed," he says.

It is only when she releases her grip and relaxes back into her own seat that he is able to take a normal breath. The sweat is beading on his brow, his old and bitter heart pounding as it has not since… Rumplestiltskin blinks. He cannot remember the last time he felt this way.

He settles back once again on his seat, his spine slowly unbending, the tightness in his chest easing. The carriage rocks as it struggles to maintain the speed he has set for it, and he gestures toward the roof, setting the speed back to rights. He lets his head rest against the seat cushion, drops his eyes to slits and again watches the girl. Her long pale fingers flip the curtain back to gaze out at the passing landscape, her bright blue eyes alight with interest. She raises a hand to brush a stray lock of hair away from her cheek, and Rumplestiltskin has to curl his fingers into his palms to stop himself from reaching forward to tuck the strand behind her ear. He would never be so bold. He would never be so brave. 

He can only study her, this strange bookish little thing that he has taken into his home. Taken with no sense of what he would actually _do_ with her once he had her, the first and only time he has ever not considered the consequences of a deal. And she has mystified him at every turn, accepted all he has thrown at her with little complaint. Cooked and served him his meals. Washed his clothing. Weathered his temper and his mocking jests at her expense. 

And after all that… she smiles at him. Smiles, as though he is not a monster in her midst. Touches him, as though he will not strike out at her if it pleases him, as though the texture of his skin does not make her recoil with distaste. But more than that, she _defies_ him. She risks everything to quarrel with him. She demands better of him, the Dark One! And he? He acquiesces to her demands! She is a confusion and a delight, confounding and enchanting him in equal measure.

Belle sighs happily and leans forward, almost sticking her head out the window as she strains to look at something they pass. Her lips part in a silent gasp of pleasure. The moonlight shines on her hair, transforming chestnut into a riot of red and copper. And Rumplestiltskin's cold, dark heart flutters and aches once more.

She must sense him watching her, because she turns suddenly to smile at him again, letting the curtain fall and placing her hands on her lap. "Will we be home soon?" she asks.

Home. The Dark Castle, with its maze of dusty corridors and barren rooms. Where she will be locked away, this child of the light. 

"Soon," he agrees.

She nods and leans contentedly enough back in the seat, her eyes closing, her body swaying gently even with the roll of the wheels over the rough terrain. He watches her still, and considers for a moment that she, perhaps, deserves something for enduring a life with the Dark One. Deserves something, possibly, to take her mind off dusting his trinkets and serving his tea. A reward, for her exemplary service. Nothing more than that.

He closes his own eyes and thinks back to what he has learned of the lady Belle since she has come to be in his employ. That the food she cooks is middling, and that she has no interest in the fine needlework that is the pastime of most genteel ladies. That she speaks her mind, and seeks knowledge wherever she can find it. That she gazes upon his prizes with eager curiosity, and perhaps eyes his scrolls and ancient tomes with the most fascination. And the single book that she brought with her to his estate is rarely far from her grasp.

Rumplestiltskin opens his eyes, his gaze upon Belle now pointed and confident. Yes, his little maid shall have a gift. And he knows just the thing.


End file.
